The Obituary Writer
by TheMelancholyDeathOf
Summary: -'Thank you all for coming this far with me. This is goodbye and goodnight.'
1. Prologue

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

It was 6.30 pm. The skies were already dark but had a tinge of sunset orange at the furthest point in the horizon. The darkness, overpowering and looming, dissolved any remaining traces of orange into the dying sun like a watercolour painting with too much black paint. Slowly, little glitters could be seen peppering within the onslaught of the night.

A lone figure sat in the corner of the room. The man remained where he was, silent and deep in thought, even as the light in his surroundings began to fade. He never liked being in the dark but for once, he was grateful when it enveloped him.

No one must see him like this.

_I can't, I-_

He fisted his hair, focusing his attention on the pain as the roots were being tugged roughly. It was merely a futile attempt to distract himself.

_Goddamnit! _

Releasing his grip, he clenched his fists once more, feeling his nails dug into the insides of his palm. He swiftly brought them down onto the keyboard in front of him, recklessly pounding the keys, as his mind flashbacked to those black obsidian eyes.

They had stared straight at him, through him, challenging him.

He gritted his teeth.

Breaking out from his thoughts, he reached towards the CPU and punched in a round button, causing his computer to whiz quietly to life.

The screen flickered. After a few quick clicks of the mouse, a clean and empty word document appeared, the predominately white screen glaring at him. Its brightness starkly contrasted with the darkness in the room, casting shadows on the man's tired face. The cursor blinked incessantly, as if beckoning him to hurry up.

He slouched forward, fingers positioned over the keyboard, the individual alphabets already forming words in his mind.

_If this is what it means to be strong to you…_

With that, words began to fill the blank electronic page. Of which the first few read:

'It was 9 September when I met him. We were at…'

*******

**A/N: **This was meant to be a one shot. What happened! Anway, next chapter is almost done (i hope). Any C&C will be much appreciated!


	2. Dry Tears

**Chapter 2: Dry tears**

It was 9 September when Naruto met Sasuke. They were at Jiraiya's funeral wake.

"And remember the other time when Jiraiya accidentally entered your room while you were changing? Yeah, well.. He lied. He intended to do it all along," an evil chuckle escaped Naruto's lips and before he knew it, he could no longer contain his laughter as he doubled over, clutching his sides once he caught sight of the expression in response to what he had said.

They were standing near the centre of the living room, where the sunrays filtered in though the curtains and bounced off the surrounding beige walls, casting a warm glow inside the house. The interior design was simple, and as Jiraiya used to say, "Good enough for an old bachelor like me!" The bare essentials consisted simply of a carpeted floor, a black leather sofa and a 40 inch LCD TV, all of which looked rather new, since the man himself was rarely at home and was mostly out traveling. "I'm researching for my latest story!" or so he would claimed.

The only signs that made the house resembled more like a home were the picture frames on a wooden cabinet along the path which led from the doorway to the kitchen. Those close to Jiraiya would know that they were photos of either his very best of friends or close ones. Naruto had fond memories of this place when he was very much younger, although now that he thought about it, it did seem rather out of place for a porn writer. Where did Jiraiya keep his stash of inspirational materials anyway?

"Why, you little brat!" spat a blonde, well-endowed woman whose youthful looks concealed her real age. Not that anyone lived past knowing the actual figure anyway.

"Tsunade baa-chan, surely you enjo- hey!" Naruto ducked just moments a clenched fist was swung towards the direction of his face.

Tsunade huffed, her chest heaving dramatically upwards before falling likewise.

"If that pervert is still around, I'd be wringing his neck this instant...," the last few words said more quietly than usual.

"Tsunade, you know that Jiraiya wouldn't like to see you like this."

The blonde lady snapped her neck towards the direction of the reply, "Of course I know that, Kakashi! I know him better than anyone else!" Fighting back the wave of emotions that threatened to break through the surface, Tsunade closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to ease back a frown. She had known Jiraiya when they were young and they had been close ever since. And yet, despite their obvious fondness for each other, their relationship never managed to develop into anything further. They had concluded that deep down inside, they were both very much alike. Too alike in fact, that they settled on becoming the best of friends instead.

A pink-haired woman who had accompanied Tsunade to the wake simply turned her head towards the latter. She knew her teacher well to understand that the older woman was strong in her own right and would rather be left alone. That understanding however, did not stop that hint of worry and sadness from reflecting in her emerald eyes.

"Tsunade…," said Sakura, her voice trailing.

There was a sudden odd silence that befell upon the group. Naruto started to shift uncomfortably. He was not used to awkwardness. He needed something to throw his mind off the current situation. If anything, the silence only made him realize how real everything was. How Jiraiya was never coming back.

In an attempt to distract himself, he scanned around the house, noting the familiar faces present. Most if not all, were softly chatting amongst themselves.

His eyes caught sight of a stranger standing next to the coffin. The latter was looking inside, through the small glass window at the top of the dark mahogany box, which separated its occupant from the living. Curious, Naruto approached the man.

"Hi, and you are?"

The man, who was slightly taller than Naruto, slowly lifted his head towards him. The first thing Naruto noticed were his black onyx eyes that seemed to look right through him, like he was nothing. He hated that feeling.

The stranger cocked his head to the side, a hint of irritation flashed across his pale features.

"Isn't it only courteous for the one asking to first introduce himself?" The tone was laced with annoyance at having been disturbed.

If Naruto was only trying to be friendly, he figured the same couldn't be said for the man in front of him. But for anyone who knew the blonde, they'd know that he was not one to be that easily deterred either.

"Right, the name's Uzumaki Naruto, pleased to meet you, Mr…?" Naruto extended his right hand.

The man's dark eyes slowly trailed down from Naruto's face to the tanned outstretched hand, as if deciding whether to reciprocate the greeting. The stranger decided not to.

"Uchiha Sasuke," came the cold reply.

"Oh okay… Erm…," Naruto was stumped. He had not expected the man to actually reject his handshake. Hell, who would? Naruto awkwardly withdrew his hand, only to raise it to scratch the back of his head. It was an annoying nervous tick that he seemed to have acquired since young. "Are you one of Jiraiya's friends? I haven't seen you before so..."

"I'm not," came the curt reply.

Naruto was beginning to regret this.

"Otherwise, you would be here for…?" He was sure they had kept the funeral a rather hush-hush affair. Only close friends and associates have been informed about the wake.

"Work."

"Work?" Naruto raised a questioning brow.

Sasuke sighed tiredly, as if he was about to explain a complex math solution to a five-year old.

"I am an obituary writer from The Akatsuki Daily. My superior, Orochimaru, sent me on his behalf to give his regards as well as to cover this story."

Naruto mused. _Orochimaru. Now why did this name sound so familiar? Wait, isn't he…_

"Oh! He's that snaky-looking guy who's like, Jiraiya's rival since they were kids! I heard a lot about him from the old man." Naruto shuddered at that thought. _Like how the guy's got this really long tongue and an unhealthy obsession with all things purple._ "Wait, he's your boss?"

Sasuke simply stared at the man with half-lidded eyes, unamused. The blonde was starting to get on his nerves and more importantly, he was wasting his time.

"Now if you'd excuse me, Mr. Uzumaki," Sasuke proceeded to move away.

"No, no. Please call me Naruto. How can I help you? Is there anything you need to know?"

Sasuke considered his options, "Perhaps." He gestured towards the center of the living room. "Don't you think what you did just now was rather inappropriate?"

Naruto followed his direction and saw what Sasuke was referring to, his closest friends still standing where he had left them.

"Umm... You're saying?"

"What I am saying, Naruto, is that you seemed _awfully_ cheerful despite the death of a close one." Sasuke spoke simply, his tone monotonous and apathetic. "Aren't you his godson? Or am I mistaken?"

It took a mere second for the shock that was initially written all over Naruto's face to wear off. Without warning, he lashed out his right hand, catching hold of Sasuke's blue collared shirt roughly and jerked him close, causing the latter to lean over the coffin slightly.

"Stop making assumptions when you don't know anything!" Naruto seethed with anger, "Do you think this is easy?"

Sasuke merely shrugged and attempted to pull free, only to feel the grip on his shirt tightened. "Let go."

"No, you listen to me! Jiraiya wouldn't want people mourning for him. He thinks he is magnanimous that way; either that or he has a cruel sense of humour. Because..." Naruto paused. He could feel the familiar sting behind his eyes as he recalled receiving the frantic phone call from Sakura informing him about Jiraiya's heart attack.

"It is hard to keep smiling... Even for someone like me..." Naruto tilted his head down to look at Jiraiya through the glass. The latter looked like he was simply resting. Tracing his eyes along the wrinkles on Jiraiya's face, Naruto could not help remembering how young Jiraiya seemed when he was alive.

---

_They had a couple of drinks that night. Naruto himself was feeling alittle tipsy. He stumbled on a small pebble but managed to regain his footing on time, preventing him from falling flat on his face in the process._

_He raised his head to see Jiraiya in front him, both arms wrapped around two young skimpily dressed girls, his steps falling awkwardly ahead of each other, like a tango gone wrong._

"_Ah, this is the life!" _

_Both girls giggled in unison._

"_Let's go somewhere else!"_

"_Yes, some place fun!"_

_Naruto blinked. Was it the alcohol or are the girls actually a pair of twins, echoing each other?_

_He cleared his throat, catching the attention of the older male. "I think it's enough for one night, Jiraiya. Tsunade did say to curb your drinking and frequent partying. It's not good for your-"_

_Naruto stopped in time before he could collide into Jiraiya, who had halted his steps to turn his head lazily towards the younger male, his expression serious. To Jiraiya, bringing up the iron-fisted lady's name during a drinking session had the same effect as one's conscience (or what was left of it) when one was bedding another woman, "Now, what would your wife say?"_

_It simply made Jiraiya uncomfortable. But even when he was, he did not show it. His lips slowly curled up into a smile, a hint of a twinkle in his eyes before he threw his head back in laughter._

_Naruto was beginning to wonder what was so funny when the older man calmed down, tears in his eyes and catching his breath._

"_Well, Naruto, at least I'd die a happy man! If anything, it's waaaaaay better than.."_

---

"… dying on a hospital bed," mumbled Naruto.

"Excuse me?" Sasuke frowned. The blonde in front of him had suddenly gone silent before muttering something incoherent. He, on the other hand, was getting rather annoyed at the creases that had formed on his shirt due to all the tugging.

Naruto snapped back into reality. Realising that he was still grabbing hold of the other man's shirt, he quickly released him, feeling embarrassed. He made a mental note to once again learn how to curb his temper.

"I'm sorry," came the sheepish reply.

The pale man simply grunted a monosyllabic acknowledgment and turned to head towards the door.

"He-Hey! You're leaving?"

Sasuke paused in his steps, "That would seem obvious."

Naruto lowered his eyes, his hand unknowingly tracing the toad insignias that had been carved along the sides of the wooden box. Ignoring the sarcastic reply, he asked softly, "When will the story be coming out?"

"Tomorrow," and with that, Uchiha Sasuke was out the door.

Naruto looked up to watch the young man go.

"Tomorrow huh…"

---

Sitting in the driver's seat, the man lightly glided his fingers over the curve of the steering wheel, unable to take his mind off a certain blonde from his earlier encounter.

"_It is hard to keep smiling... Even for someone like me..."_

Sasuke felt his grip on the wheel tightened as he remembered about a certain young boy.

---

_The 8 year old boy was crying. He stood among the sea of black bodies as they watched the men shovel the dirt and threw them onto the coffins below. The mechanic actions terrified the boy even further. He turned to cling tightly to his brother who was standing nearby. _

_The older male, sensing his brother's fear, lowered himself till he was seeing eye to eye with the latter. Gently, he raised his right hand to wipe off the boy's tear-stained cheeks._

"_We still have each other." The assurance was calm and collected._

_The young boy nodded, but somehow, he could never seem to stop the tears. As he buried his face into his brother's warm chest, he began to hear the murmurs. _

"_The poor children. How unfortunate!"_

"_Did you mean that the rumours were true?."_

"_I have heard that Fugaku was seeking treatment for depression."_

"_Why did he have to drag Mikoto along with him, that crazy bastard!"_

"_The police have not yet found anything conclusive from the collision site."_

"_Thankfully, there is still Itachi to look after the family's business."_

"_Yes, his father always thought highly of him. The company will be in safe hands."_

_In the background, the sounds of the dirt being tossed onto the coffins had stopped. As the boy peeked up to look at his brother from the corner of his teary eyes, he could see that the latter had put on a smile. It felt eerily empty._

_Trailing upwards, he noted that his brother's eyes were dry. Dwelling beyond those dark orbs were some things he had not noticed before: desire, ambition. _

_More than ever, the boy felt like he had been swallowed by his brother's shadow. _

_---_

The little boy swore on that day that he will never shed tears again, and he has kept his word for the past 17 years.

***

**A/N: **This chapter was supposed to be out earlier, but because I have this horrid habit of going through it over & over again.. Sigh. Any C&C will be much appreciated!


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